Page 14 of They Love Me Knot (Starsfalls Omegaverse #2)

Daphne

T he truck bounces me around as I drive down the rough dirt road to Flower Gully. I poke blindly at the radio, missing the button every so often as I go over bumps, looking for a station that isn’t just static.

I do wish the suspension was a bit better.

I don’t mind the scenic drive though, with the Fossfell Mountains on either side. The windows are down, and the breeze blows my worries away. I can’t even remember the scent of Flourist’s dazzling peony desserts with this crisp country air in my nose.

A patchwork blanket of colors appears in the distance as I approach the farm, resolving into rows of waving flowers welcoming me in.

I slow down as I reach the first fields, leisurely driving the rest of the way to the office building .

Anicka said one of the farm workers will meet me there and direct me to which flowers are for us. When she called, they weren’t sure how many they’d be able to set aside for us, and they’re busy with harvests, so I’ll be loading everything myself.

After parking, I knock on the office door, a little wooden building, since I’m unsure of the protocol for entering an office building that looks like a house. When no one answers, I try one more time before opening the door to peek inside.

There are a few tables and a desk with stacks of papers and tablets, but all the chairs are empty. I enter and look around, still hoping to somehow find an employee to help me. I do a circuit of the interior before going back outside to do the same.

I shade my eyes as I search the fields, but there’s no one else around. I text Anicka to ask for her contact’s number at Flower Gully.

Once I get it, I call, and it rings several times before going to a generic voicemail.

I don’t hear a phone ringing in the building, so it must be forwarding my call somewhere else.

I try again, and just before it goes to voicemail, a worker walks around the corner, empty buckets clanking together in his hands.

The man hurries along, looking at a tablet, and passes by me before I say something, realizing he’s not planning on stopping.

“Excuse me, I’m here to pick up the flowers for Queen of Hearts,” I call out to him.

“Don’t have ‘em. Call the boss and see when you’re scheduled for pickup,” he says without breaking stride.

“Wait,” I powerwalk after him. “ My boss already talked to him, and they’re supposed to be ready now. It was a last- minute order for the extra flowers you have available. Maybe they’re around here somewhere?”

He slows marginally, so I catch up until I’m just a few feet behind him when he replies, “Right, Queen of Hearts. We had some flowers bud unexpectedly, but no one’s had time to cut them. We’re short-staffed and won’t be able to get to them today. Have your boss call back tomorrow.”

“Oh, but we received tons of prom orders this morning, and we really need those flowers today. Is there any way we could get them? I can cut the flowers myself if you point me to them,” I plead.

The worker looks over his shoulder at me briefly before looking back at his tablet.

“Prom? Isn’t that like months away?” he says.

“It’s for promposals, actually. Apparently, asking a date to prom using flowers is popular with the kids right now, and everyone’s asking out their dates early so they can post it on ShutterSoul and get a bunch of smiles or whatever,” I pant out, still scurrying after him.

He stops abruptly and I almost run into him, skidding in the dirt like a cartoon character to avoid collision. He doesn’t see my antics thankfully, since he’s looking at the field of flowers to our left.

“The amaryllis here can be cut.” He points out the sections with blooms. “They won’t last long since they flowered a few days ago, but if they’re going out to the customer within a day, it should be fine. There’s also camellias and monkshood out this way that you can cut.”

“That would be great! I can harvest anything that’s flowering?”

From what I can see, there should be plenty of flowers, enough to fulfill the orders we have. Even if we get more orders, we should be set for a few days between these and the flowers Poppy is picking up.

“Yeah, just don’t cut anything else or trample them. You know how to cut flowers?”

“Yes, I’ve been a florist for years, I know how to cut flowers,” I say, bristling.

“There are extra buckets behind the office if you need some,” he says, speeding off again before I can say anything else.

I try to calm myself.

It’s nice of him to let me cut the flowers we need. Flower Gully isn’t open to the public for people to pick their own, so we’re getting special treatment.

I walk back to the truck and grab the tools and buckets we keep in the truck. I take the extra buckets the worker mentioned and fill them with water before walking out to the rows of amaryllis.

I set my things near a large cluster of blooms and start cutting.

I made it through the amaryllis and loaded the full buckets in the truck, lugging more pails of water into the camellias to start on those.

I carefully cut the base of the long stems and strip the lower leaves before putting them in the water.

The heat is getting to me, and I wipe the trickles of sweat off my forehead.

It’s been fun being out here like a real farmer (sweat on my brow and everything) but I think I prefer the cool climate of the flower shop. I took my sweater off soon after I started, but as the sun beams happily down on me, I wish I had more layers to remove.

I glance around and don’t see anyone nearby. Workers were coming and going all morning, so busy bustling around they never looked in my direction.

I unbutton another button at the top of my dress to cool off.

I’m getting dangerously close to looking like I should be on the cover of some milkmaid romance book.

The low-cut, puffy-sleeved dress with a too-tight bodice was an unfortunate choice for today’s outing.

It looked cute and classic, country chic, when it was all buttoned up and topped with a sweater.

But whatever. Since no one’s around, it seems safe enough to sport this daring style.

As another hour passes, I debate removing my dress entirely.

I’m not used to so much outdoor manual labor. My body is accustomed to working in cold florist shops with short stints setting up flowers at events.

Not these prolonged hours in the sun.

I look around for the hundredth time, still not finding anyone. Maybe they’re all on their lunch break.

Surely I could take my dress off for a little while to cool down and put it back on before the workers return.

I crouch and clip more flowers while I waffle about whether or not to strip down. I set aside the clippers to pop the leaves off, sighing in relief as a cloud passes overhead and blocks the sun.

I put the flowers in the bucket with a smile, the shade making it feel at least ten degrees cooler, a breeze blowing my hair back.

“Now you’re stealing flowers?” a deep, menacing voice says.

I squeak and dart to the side, the only reaction my body can come up with to escape.

I don’t make it far, hands grabbing my arms, and something drops over my legs to pin me down.

I squawk indignantly and struggle against my captor.

“Let go of me, you oaf!” I manage to spit out with the grass smothering me.

“First you steal and now that you’re caught, you insult me. I don’t know how you think that’s going to end well for you,” the giant idiot says.

“I’m not stealing! I got permission to cut these flowers,” I say, turning my head to either side, but I can’t get a good look at him through the hair in my face.

“Another lie. What else have you been pilfering, hmm?”

He pulls my arms behind my back and holds them there with one hand. With the other, he tickles my sides. I let out a breathy squeal and twist, trying to get away. His hand slides around to tickle my stomach and then moves down my thighs.

I try to buck him off, but his knee presses into my calves so I can’t move as I slowly realize he’s not trying to tickle me.

He’s patting me down!

“I told you I didn’t steal anything. You can’t search me like this!” I say in outrage.

He’s treating me like I’m some criminal!

“You’re brazen enough to steal in broad daylight. Who knows what else you might have taken. Is that what you were doing yesterday? Or were you just casing the place?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I twitch as his hand travels up my inner thigh before moving away to pat my lower legs.

“I wasn’t even here yesterday, I was at work,” I puff out .

He checks the inside of my boots, and I try to throw him off again now that his knee isn’t on my legs, but I only flail my middle upward like a worm.

“Hold still.” He pops the side of my ass suddenly before going back to feeling up my ankles.

I moan and freeze. This is not the time for my body to realize it enjoys being spanked.

I quickly get myself under control and resume squirming, trying to get away, but it’s like a switch flipped and everything is making me wetter, the hands holding me down, my nipples rubbing against the dress every time I move, even the scent of the camellias is turning me on now.

Thankfully, the man stops his physical interrogation before I embarrass myself by producing enough slick to leak through my underwear.

I go limp, blades of grass tickling my lips as I pant. I’m not sure if he’s an alpha, but hopefully he can’t smell how aroused I am over my scent blockers.

“Where’d you park? Up in the hills? I’ll be taking back everything you stole, and then we’ll see about pressing charges based on how much you took. I might be lenient if you didn’t steal much,” he says.

“Pressing charges,” I huff and resume my inchworming, trying to get away from him. “You’re going to be in so much trouble when you realize what a mistake you’ve made.”

He leans close and whispers in my ear, “You can’t flirt your way out of this. That may have worked for you in the past, but I won’t be fooled by an omega shaking her ass.”